


feathers

by orphan_account



Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Body Horror, Icarus!Hugo, M/M, Poor Ryan did not deserve that tbh, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 23:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10346526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: At first, Hugo barely noticed the fluttering of his eye.





	

           At first, Hugo barely noticed the fluttering of his eye. It wasn’t anything too unusual, as it tended to happen when his eyes got overtired. Logically Hugo knew that he probably should have gotten glasses at some point, but he hadn’t gotten to it by then.

          Hugo leaned back in the desk chair and stretched out his shoulders. He’d been hunched over his notebook for far too long and now his back was paying the price.

          He got up and wandered over to look out over the city. Beyond all the buildings, the water of the bay glittered darkly.

          Hugo’s eye was still twitching when he made his way into the bathroom, but when he leaned forward to check it in the mirror it stilled. _“Ce n’est rien,”_ he told the empty room, running his palms up and down his forearms to calm himself. _“Ce n’est rien du tout.”_

          He woke up a few hours after he fell asleep, but couldn’t figure out why. Perhaps something had happened in a dream?

          Hugo found out what was wrong as soon as he took a few steps towards the light switch. Pain exploded behind his eyelids and he gasped, doubling over. Unfortunately for Hugo, the motion made white-hot shivers run across his shoulders and back and he fought for air.

          “Fucking hell!” Hugo tried to stay quiet as he reached for his phone. Ryan was in the room next door and Hugo desperately didn’t want to wake him. His fingers shook as he typed in the passcode and clicked on Porter’s contact. Hugo clicked _dial_ and hobbled over to the bathroom. Maybe this time he’d be able to see what was wrong?

          Hugo leaned forward again to check his eyes in the mirror. Porter didn’t pick up. Everything looked normal and for a second Hugo believed he really _had_ just worked himself too hard.

          And then his eye moved to the side. Hugo drew back from the mirror.

          His eye looked back at him.

          “HOLY SHIT!” Hugo could hear noise coming from the other room now, but he was too terrified to pay much attention to it. He covered his eye with a hand, trying to will himself back into breathing. “Oh shit, putain de merde.” _It was a dream, he was dreaming, none of it was real._ The other eye caught him in its sights.

          There were a few sharp knocks at the door, and Hugo jumped. “It’s nothing, it’s just Ryan.” He carefully tiptoed over towards the entrance, taking care to make no sudden moves.

          “Hey Hugo! You okay in there?”

          “Yeah, I’m goo— AHH!”

          Hugo’s knees buckled as his back tore open. Ryan started banging on the door, shouting at him to open it. When that failed, Ryan stopped banging and the sound of Hugo’s sobbing filtered out into the hallway.

          “Hugo? Hugo, buddy, I’m going to come right back. I just have to grab the room key you gave me from my room. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

          Hugo could barely hear Ryan’s rapidly retreating footsteps over the pounding in his head. Pretty soon, though, the door was unlocked and Ryan dropped on his knees next to where Hugo was curled up. “Hugo? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

          Hugo whimpered in pain but didn’t answer.

          “Can you at least look at me then?” Hugo carefully removed one hand from over his eye, but he didn’t look at Ryan.

          And then he did.

          It had turned completely red by now, and Ryan recoiled when it focused on him.

_“Oh.”_ Ryan was beginning to understand why Hugo had freaked out earlier.

          “Oh is right.”

          Ryan swallowed. “Does it hurt?” He asked, unsure if it’d be wise to call the emergency services.

          “The eyes…. Could be worse. It’s mostly my shoulders. I can’t see what’s happening.” Hugo moved his arm slowly back towards his face and covered up his eye again. His back burned with the movement.

          “Can I see?” Ryan asked, and Hugo nodded softly. He rolled over so Ryan would be able to see whatever was going on with his shoulders.

          The back of Hugo’s shirt had turned dark across the top. Ryan carefully pulled it up, revealing two symmetrical gashes running vertically down Hugo’s back. They were, as Ryan had expected, bleeding quiet a bit. “I have to see how deep they are before I can see if I need to get help,” he told Hugo, who gave him a weak thumbs up. Ryan stood and grabbed one of the hotel towels, wetting it under the sink. Once it was sufficiently damp, he returned and began wiping up some of the blood. It looked mostly superficial, but something caught his attention when he checked the wounds themselves.

          Ryan leaned in for a better look but quickly had to avert his gaze. “Hugo?”

          “Yes?”

          Ryan steeled himself and checked again. “I’m pretty sure that’s bone.”

          Hugo froze. “You’re pretty sure it’s _bone?”_

          There was indeed something bone-white poking out of the wound, and as Ryan watched it was pushed out another half-inch by the spasms of Hugo’s shoulder muscles.

          “I think I’m going to throw up.” Ryan’s voice was higher-pitched than Hugo had ever heard it, high enough that under most circumstances it would have been amusing.

          “You’d better get in line,” Hugo finally retorted, his teeth chattering. Ryan chuckled and got back to work on cleaning the area around the gashes. He had to pause when the tremors made more blood flow up and run down Hugo’s back, but it was soon wiped clean again.

          It was during a lull when Ryan spoke up again.

          “Hugo, I…. I think I’m going to call an ambulance.” There was definitely bone sticking out of the wounds, and he was worried they’d get infected. Also, Ryan was ninety-nine percent sure that there _wasn’t_ supposed to be bone anywhere near that position, so either something had gotten seriously broken or something was _growing._

          He wasn’t sure which one weirded him out more.

          Ryan turned to pick up Hugo’s phone from where it lay on the tile floor of the bathroom. Unfortunately for him, Ryan was stopped rather abruptly when the hotel’s television smashed against the back of his head. He collapsed to the floor with a thud.

          Hugo stood across the room, arms still outstretched and hands shaking.

          “Fuck, fuck, _fuck!”_ Whatever force had allowed him to move so quickly a few seconds before left him, and he was forced to hobble over to Ryan as rapidly as he could. Hugo fell to the ground next to him and tried to get his eyes to cooperate and focus on his hands. Another inch of red-stained white slid from his shoulders. “Check for breathing, check for breathing.” Hugo leaned in to check but couldn’t feel any moving air. He tried to move his hands so he’d be able to try cpr, but Hugo couldn’t get them to budge. He sat back up and found his phone, trying Porter’s number again.

          This time Porter does pick up, and Hugo takes a deep breath and puts it on speaker. “Hugo? Is everything alright?” His voice echoes in the hotel room bathroom, and a sob escapes Hugo. “Hugo?”

          “Thank you for picking up, Port,” Hugo’s voice cracks as he says it, and he finally starts crying. “Porter, I just killed Ryan.”

          There was silence on the other end of the line.

          “Fuck,” Porter finally said, and Hugo’s forehead dropped to his knees. It wasn’t the most comfortable position for his back, but then again it would’ve been painful no matter how he was sitting, so Hugo wrapped his arms around his knees and pulled them in tight. “Why’d you do it?”

          “There’s something wrong with me. My eyes and hands aren’t my own anymore, and there’s inches of bone growing out my shoulderblades. Ryan was going to call an ambulance, and my hands didn’t like it.” Tears dripped off Hugo’s nose and dropped to pool on the tile floor. There was no _way_ Porter would believe him; he didn’t even believe himself. It was a nice story but probably not true.

          “Okay. You’re in Charlotte, right?” Hugo looked up and stared at his phone.

          “Ye-Yeah?”

          “Alright. Give me an hour and a half and I’ll be there. It’s the middle of the night, I can push the speed limit. Do you need me to grab anything before I leave?”

          Hugo sniffed. “Maybe a first aid kit? And some food if it isn’t too much trouble?”

          “I’ll make sure to grab some, then.” Porter sounded worried, and Hugo felt horrible for it. “I’ll also grab the jumbo trash bags from the garage. I’ll take care of Ryan, you don’t have to worry about that.”

          “Merci beaucoup.”

          “I’m assuming that means thank you. You’ll be okay for a few hours, right?”

          Hugo traced where two of the tiles met. “I think so.”

          “Okay. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll stay on the line while I drive.”

          “Isn’t that illegal if you aren’t using Bluetooth?”

          “They won’t catch me.”

          Hugo braced his head against his knees and prepared to wait.

           When Porter knocked on the door, Hugo shivered with déjà vu. He stood and had to stretch out his legs before he could head over to open the door.

           Porter stood outside it with a box of trash bags and a bunch of towels under one arm and a first aid kit and a pizza box under the other. “Hey,” he said, and though he didn’t smile he didn’t seem as angry as Hugo had expected. “Are you alright?”

           Hugo shrugged and winced as it tugged at his sore back. “I’m alright. Sorry you had to drive all the way here.”

           “I know you would’ve done the same,” Porter said as he finally gave Hugo a small smile. He stepped into the room and saw Ryan’s body. “Damn, I bet he’s seeing in Technicolor now.”

           Hugo snorted. “I just murdered my opener and _that’s_ the joke you come up with?”

           Porter gave him an incredulous look. “Well, it’s true!”

           “You’re the worst!”

           “Sorry! Alright, go lie down on the bed and try not to bleed too much on the sheets. I’m going to take care of our poor friend over there.” Hugo flopped down on the bed and tried not to think about how there was now over two feet of bone sticking out of his back. He heard Porter grunt as he lifted Ryan and the door slam shut behind him.

           After a little while, Porter returned. He’d grabbed the room key before he’d left, and Hugo was thankful that he didn’t have to get up to let him in. The faucet ran for about a minute as Porter presumably washed the blood off his hands, and Hugo couldn’t help but wonder if Porter would get caught.

           “Do you think the police will find the body?” Hugo asked when the water shut off. Porter walked around the side of the bed and sat down, the first aid kit at his side.

           “This isn’t my first rodeo. They won’t find him.”

           Hugo craned his neck to look at Porter with disbelief. His eyes were still red. “You’ve had to _bury a body before?”_

           “More than one. Ryan there was my eleventh. And I don’t bury them.”

           Hugo choked. “You’ve buried _eleven people?_ Or somehow gotten rid of their bodies? How do you do it, anyways?”

           Porter smirked. “That, Hugo, shall remain a secret. Can I take a look at your wings?” Hugo raised an eyebrow.

           “I’m pretty sure they’re not wings, Porter.”

           “Of course they are, Hugo! The bone’s not done growing yet, so that’s why there isn’t skin or muscles or feathers on them yet and they don’t look like wings.” Hugo’s head dropped back to the bed. Porter got up and walked around to the end of the bed before hopping back up.

           “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

           “Don’t be stupid.” Porter leaned down to get a closer look. “Alright, I’m going to make the bone finish growing.” He reached towards the top of bed and grabbed one of the pillows. “Bite down on this so you don’t bite your tongue off.”

           Hugo stopped breathing. “Is it going to hurt that badly?”

           “Yup.”

           Hugo couldn’t see when Porter started, but he most _certainly_ could feel it. “Holy _shit!_ What are you _doing?”_

           “Shut up and bite down on the damn pillow!” Hugo did as waves of pain flooded his senses. He could feel the bone slipping out from underneath his skin, and if that wasn’t the most terrifying thing he’d ever felt then he didn’t know what was. The bone grew thicker the further along it got, and soon the pillow did little to muffle Hugo’s screams.

           “I’m sorry, Hugo, I’m so sorry. Those were the radius and ulna bones. Can you keep breathing for me?” Hugo could hear Porter talking to him, so he did his best to focus on Porter’s words and understand what he was saying. “That’s good, Hugo. Keep breathing. The bone’s going to bend again now.” Hugo’s screams echoed through the hotel room, and Porter worried for a moment that someone next door would get the manager, but he decided to keep going and pressed on. Though Porter had gotten the majority of the bone out, there was still the matter of the shoulder joint. “Alright, this is going to be the worst part. I’m so sorry, Hugo.” Hugo sobbed as it broke through the skin and attached to his shoulder blade.

          Finally, the framework for his wings was in place, and Porter stopped moving the bone. Hugo’s body shook with his sobs, and Porter’s heart broke. He scooted up the bed and pulled Hugo up with him, taking care to not hit the new bone. “Ssh, Hugo, it’s over. This next part shouldn’t hurt.” Porter rested Hugo against him and placed his palms over the bleeding gashes on Hugo’s back, the skin knitting back together under Porter’s touch. Hugo stopped crying and relaxed against Porter.

          “What’re you doing?”

          “Healing where the bones broke through the skin.”

          Hugo’s head dropped onto Porter’s shoulder. “How’re you doing that?”

          “Healing magic.” Hugo’s eyes snapped open. They were back to his normal brown.

          “Are you joking?”

          “No.”

          “Hm.” Hugo closed his eyes again. It wasn’t the easiest position for Porter to work in, but it did just fine. “You owe me an explanation tomorrow. But can you tell me what the hell was going on with me earlier? Was I possessed by a demon?”

          Porter shook his head. “Not a demon, no. That was Icarus.”

          “That was _Icarus?”_ Hugo sat up and twisted to face Porter. “Icarus, as in mythological dude who’s been dead for thousands of years?”

          “That’s the one. And you wondered why you’ve always been obsessed with that myth?”

          Hugo stared at him. “I guess that explains the wings,” he finally said. Hugo turned back around so Porter could finish healing his shoulders.

          “It does.” Hugo had fallen asleep when his skin was completely stitched together again, so Porter softly tapped him on the shoulder to wake him. “I need you to roll over so I can finish your wings.” Hugo groaned but did as instructed.

          Porter thought for a moment before he decided to start with the left wing. “This may feel a little weird, but it shouldn’t hurt.” Hugo mumbled something in response. Porter began building up from the bone, increasing the speed at which the muscles and ligaments and nerves and skin grew until the only things missing were the feathers. Hugo twitched when Porter started— it did feel a little odd but not painful, just as Porter had said it would— but soon stilled. Porter switched to the other side and worked until it also had everything but the feathers.

          “Alright, are you ready to find out what color your feathers are?” Porter smiled as Hugo experimentally flexed his wings.

          “Definitely!” Hugo actually sounded excited, and Porter couldn’t help but share his excitement as he reached down again. Feathers began to appear under his touch, blooming black and pink and orange and blue. When both wings were finished, Porter jumped off the bed and offered Hugo a hand.

          “Come on, take a look in the mirror!”

          Hugo’s mouth dropped open when he saw his wings for the first time. They were larger than he’d expected, long enough that the primaries would touch the ground if he wasn’t careful. The primaries were orange, the secondaries a mix of orange and pink, the greater and primary coverts pink, the tertials a rich turquoise, and the rest of the wings black. “They’re beautiful,” he murmured, but his face clouded. “And they’re part of the reason why Ryan’s dead.”

          Porter didn’t have an immediate response to that. “I can teach you how to keep Icarus from possessing you,” he eventually told Hugo. “And you won’t kill anyone else without your own volition.”

          Hugo’s gaze met Porter’s in the mirror. “Can you promise that?”

          Porter’s eyes narrowed. “I can promise.”

          “Good.” Hugo lifted one of his wings, watching how the feathers moved. “Will they find us if we stay here tonight? What about the blood?”

          Porter stepped forward and pulled Hugo against him. “I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered in Hugo’s ear, and both of them froze when the wings abruptly changed color. They’d turned almost solid black, but the greater coverts had become a metallic turquoise. Porter couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my _God,_ are you kidding me?” Hugo gave him a confused glance, and he muffled his laughter. “I’ll explain later. Maybe. At some point.” Porter stepped back and Hugo folded up his wings. They’d slowly begun to revert back to their usual pattern, but Porter’s grin hadn’t faded.

          “What’s so funny?”

          “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Porter walked over to the stuffed chair in the corner and sat down.

          “Goodnight, Porter.”

          “Goodnight, Hugo.”

          Hugo shrugged and the feathers rippled, making a soft noise. He curled up on the bed and somehow managed to make it all the way under the covers before he was dead asleep.

          Porter let himself watch Hugo for a few minutes before he turned his gaze outside the hotel room window. He had someone to protect, after all.


End file.
